The Meeting
All traditional disclaimers and conditions apply. Although I think writing is a freedom of expression that all people, authors and readers, are entitled to...the law doesn't agree. If you are under the age of 18 or it is illegal to possess such material as this where you live, please leave now, grow up or move, then come back. This story has some elements from my own life in it, as well as some fiction. Some of the events happened and some I only thought up. I'll leave it up to you to decide which is which. Please enjoy!
The Meeting
I knew the very first time his lips touched mine that he was the one who would save me. I knew this deep inside of me, inside my heart. I knew he would save me like you know the sun will come up tomorrow or like the trees know to come alive in the Spring after a long, cold winter. The strange thing was, before he came along, I didn't realize I needed to be saved. I had my life, and everything in it, for a reason; I had accepted the fact that this is how I would spend the rest of my days. Was I happy? No, but who is totally happy with their life? I had grown accustom to where I was, my daily routine, the same friends, same enemies, same basic life. Not good, but not terrible either. This is our story.
It is 11:01am, my alarm clock had been buzzing for a full minute. A dull, mechanical buzz that drove any hope of catching a few more minutes of precious sleep from existence. I tried to hide my head in my pillow, squeezing my eyes shut as if I could have pretended not to hear the blaring siren. Who got me that damned alarm clock anyway? I got it for Christmas one year when I turned twelve. I couldn't remember who gave it to me, that was too much thinking that early in the morning. They should be shot. How funny, of all the things that have changed in my life that clock stuck with me. I hated it.
It was one of those days that made me want to stay in bed. The sun was shining, clouds were moving lazily across the crisp blue sky, birds were chirping their love affair to the world and I had a paper due by midnight. I know I should have started working on the paper but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I had procrastinated for two weeks electing to hang out with friends, go to the movies, go out to dinner, clean my room, anything other than writing that paper. It was supposed to be a policy paper about the state of our welfare system and how that is directly related to the de-moralization of the teenage population in the United States due to increased exposure to mass media. Or something like that. No wonder I don't want to write it, I had better things to waste my life on. But, the day was upon me and I had no where else to go, no more excuses about why I couldn't just sit down and hash out a mediocre paper that would no doubt boost my grade up to the C average I needed to pass the class.
So I called Mira, my self-proclaimed hag. Mira is my best friend who almost makes up for the total lack of a social life that I have. She is smart, and ambitious, and pretty, and hates this damn down as much as I do. We are both from large cities and have transplanted ourselves to what can only be described as, Podunk, USA. A small town in the bible belt that plays host to a small university and is surrounded by more small towns. The biggest attraction is the gas station that stays open twenty-four hours a day. Anyway Mira said I should stop wasting my time talking to her and finish the paper so we could go out that tonight. Her brother was flying into town for the weekend and she wanted to make him feel welcome and prove to him that she wasn't the screw up her mother kept saying she was. A lot of help she was. How could I properly snuff off my responsibilities and procrastinate if my enabler wouldn't enable me to procrastinate?
I started making excuses as to why my paper wasn't turned in via email by midnight like it was supposed to be. I know, it was only noon and I had 12 hours to write the paper but on the off chance that I decided I don't want to write it, I needed an excuse. My computer crashed, the file didn't attach, the upload went awry, the internet cut out right as I hit the send button. I've used them all before. God bless technology and all of its faults. Perhaps I could have bought myself an extra weekend to get the paper in, but then I would have put it off until Sunday night. I knew I should just write the paper. Suck it up, take a deep breath, and write. It didn't have to be good, it just had to be a paper. Bull shit my way through it like everyone else.
I decided to go get lunch. That would get my brain going and my creative juices flowing. Yes, lunch, and then I would write. I got into my car and drove up and down the main road in town trying to decide which of the six restaurants I wanted to eat at. After a while they all start tasting the same. I decided to go with a small mom and pop place that looked like it had been around forever. The owners really were quite nice. They always smiled at me when I come in and the waitresses tried to make idle chit chat with me while my order was cooking. I don't like going to sit-down places by myself because it makes me feel like a bit of a loser. Like I have no friends or no one thinks my company is worth anything.
So I sat down and ordered the "special of the day" which I'm sure was just a code name for the crap they had to get rid of before it expired. The waitress took my order with a bubbly blond smile and a full row of perfectly placed white teeth. Her high school enthusiasm and youth clearly showed through as she complemented me on my shirt, fishing for a better tip I'm sure. I watched her as she walked into the kitchen area to deliver my order to the old line cook. I noticed the extra bounce in her step and thought to myself that if I were straight, she might just get an extra large tip on looks alone. But, I'm not straight, I'm as gay as the day is long and her innocent-youth routine was lost on me. Within the split second the kitchen door was open, my eyes were pulled violently to the person washing dishes. The brief glimpse of him was enough to etch him into my mind. His tight black shirt well fitted over his strong back and arms, showing off every contour of his well sculpted body and broad shoulders made my mouth water. The white string of an apron tied around his slim waist right above a favorite pair of blue jeans which showed off his perfect ass and muscular thighs was the stuff you see in Greek sculptures. He must have stood at an impressive six feet tall which shadows my five feet nine inche. His light brown hair was neatly trimmed behind his ears and across the back of his neck. He was, in my eyes, perfection washing dishes.
I must gotten at least five crushes a day. It is bound to happen in a college town in the early onset of summer. Guys started taking their shirts off, started wearing shorts, and just showed off their bodies. There was so much eye candy floating around, how could a person not be tempted? My fleeting glimpse of the dishwasher boy amused me while I eat my lunch and I did my best to smile at the pretty blond girl who keeps interrupting me to ask if everything was ok. I assured her that everything is fine as I craned my neck to see into the kitchen one more time as someone walked through the door.
"His name is Matt," I heard from the blond waitress.
"What?" I asked, caught off guard by the unexpected statement.
"The guy washing dishes. I saw you trying to watch him just now and his name is Matt. I can introduce you to him if you want." She said with a goofy grin across her face.
Damn I was caught! I didn't exactly hide my sexuality but I didn't try to advertise it either. In that closed minded community where God's Law is above all others, who knew what would happen to me. So for this high school girl to catch me in the act was...well...embarrassing.
"Um, no thanks," I quickly replied and asked for my check. I paid and left a very generous tip, my meal sat only half eaten at the table.
So that was one place I couldn't go back to anytime soon. How can I have been so careless to let a little girl catch me watching a stupid piece of eye candy? I retreated back to my house to finish the dreaded paper. I trudged and typed and made up facts and statistics to back up my fake ideas about the world and ended up writing a fairly well put together paper. I even managed to make it half a page longer than the required three pages. Go me.
By the time I sent my essay to my professor via the university's email system, the day had faded into dusk and the streetlights shone their yellow glow across my uncut front yard. I called up Mira again to see if her brother had gotten into town and ask what we were doing that tonight. We agreed that ten was a good time to meet up at the local cowboy bar so she could introduce me to her brother and we could dance and have fun or whatever. This left me about two hours to pick out the perfect outfit and groom myself until the world was ready to see me. It is only a cowboy bar but I still wanted to look presentable for Mira's brother, no point in looking like a slob all of the time.
I pull into the parking lot and saw Mira and her brother waiting outside for me by the front door. I parked my car and keep my eyes focused on her brother as I walked up to meet then. What a sight to behold! He was about five feet, ten inches tall with blond hair and piercing blue eyes. He wasn't bulky but had well toned and lean muscles under his form fitting, green, Abercrombie and Fitch shirt. Low rise black jeans that showed an impressive bulge and a studded belt hung on his hips to complete the outfit. I must have been gawking a little too much because Mira just hit me upside the head and introduced us.
"Sean, this is my straight brother, Cody. Cody, this is my lustful friend, Sean," she said dripping with sarcasm. "Don't be gross with my brother," she added with a smirk on her face to drill in the point.
"Good to meet you," he said with a killer grin. "I don't mind being hit on by guys, it is actually kind of flattering knowing how picky some gay guys can be."
I took a sharp, excited breath in. This hot guy just gave me a free pass to check him out and hit on him all night. This would be fun. We pushed our way through the smoke and country music to the bar and ordered our drinks. I've been in love with red-headed sluts and whiskey sours since I first tried them, something about the way they flavors mixed to mask the alcohol hooked me right away. The night wore on and as I consumed more and more alcohol, my inhibitions became less and less. To Mira's contempt, I kept hitting on her brother because he kept encouraging me; even going so far as to tell me that he had a seven inch cut dick that was quite lonely lately and needed some action. Just as I was about to work up the courage to pinch his ass, someone bumped me from behind making me lose my balance and fall to the floor.
My drunk world went spinning. Up became left and down became my favorite place to be as I barely threw my arms out in time to keep me from biting the hard floor. For a moment I laid face down not daring to get up in front of the small crowd that had now gathered around me. My mind raced at a snail's pace to process all that had just happened. I was joking around, I was drunk, I was pushed, and now I was on the floor in God-knows-what kind of sickness and infestation. I was pissed. That's it! Anger is what I felt. I vowed to find whoever pushed me and punch him right in the face. When you are drunk that is a logical and acceptable answer to all of your problems, and it worked for me.
I turned around and leapt to my feet, hands cocked at the side, my blurry eyes tried to find Mira so I could ask her who pushed me. I turned around the crowd until two hands grasp my shoulders and I was staring into the face of the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. One look into his almond colored eyes and I completely forget where I was, what I was doing, and who I was looking for. I got lost in his gaze as I noticed the flawlessly tanned skin and the wonderfully gelled hair. His full eyebrows were pulled together in a concerned way and his luscious lips were moving as if he was trying to say something. His well defined jaw and chin had just the slightest bit of stubble on it. My body relaxed into his strong grip as any urge to fight passed out of my body and my ability to speak escaped me. I only slightly snapped out of my trance when I heard Mira's voice calling my name and asking if I was ok.
She was standing behind the gorgeous stranger trying to look over his broad shoulders at me. She also had a look of concern on her face. The stranger turned toward Mira and wrapped one of his muscular arms around me for support. I melted into him like I was made to be held by him. The sweet smell of cologne and man intoxicated me even more than I already was. I faintly heard something about getting some fresh air and making sure I was ok. Cody stepped up to the other side of me and helped the handsome guy drag me out to the parking lot to the tailgate of some truck. I knew I don't drive a truck and I was sure that Mira didn't drive a truck so I was confused as to where we were. I sat on the old tailgate letting the night air fill my smoke infested lungs as my head finally started to clear. Again, Mira's voice brought me back to reality as I assured her that I was ok and just needed some air. She grabbed my car keys and told me that I was in no position to drive home no matter how well I felt.
"You stay here with Matt," she commanded, "Cody and I are going to find your car, I'll drive yours while Cody follows in mine."
Before I could ask her who Matt was or why we were on a tailgate, she and Cody went off into the night. It took me a second to realize that the handsome stranger was still nearby, just off to my left.
"I'm sorry again for knocking you down. It was a total accident, I swear," he said in a shy and scared kind of way. As if at any moment I would stand up and try to fight him. This man who was a good head above me and could probably bench press my body weight seemed to be intimidated by me.
"No, its ok, hottie," I muttered before I realized what words had formed in my mouth. Dear god, I just called this guy a hottie, what is wrong with me today? First the dishwasher guy...
"Wait, you're dishwasher, aren't you?" I asked a little too excitedly, not realizing how stupid I sounded in my drunken state.
A smile spread across his beautiful face as his eyes light up. "You must be the one that Erika was telling me about. She said you were handsome..." His words trailed off as our eyes locked onto each other.
He moved to sit next to me on his truck's tailgate and wrap his arm around me just as Mira and Cody returned in my car. What moment wreckers they are! I wanted to wish them away, I wanted to close my eyes and pretend they didn't see me. I wanted to lay down right there in the bed of an old Ford truck and just hold this guy forever. Instead, I puked. I vomited my guts up right in front of this hot guy just as Mira got out of the car. Classic.
I don't remember much about the ride home, who drove, how long it took, what time it was, or even how I got into bed, but somehow I made it. I woke up the next morning, naked in my own bed. How I got naked and where my clothes went were a mystery to me. I never asked Mira who took my clothes off, but in my mind I like to secretly think it was her brother. Not likely, but a boy can wish. All I do know is that when I woke up I felt like I had the most amazing dream I had ever had in my life. For the life of me I couldn't remember what it was, but I know it was good. I had that early morning groggy feeling that keeps you in a state of peaceful bliss from the pleasant dream you just had. I thought this would be the first good day I have had in a while.
As soon as I sat up, the headache came. Splitting, pounding, throbbing, shooting pain, right to the center of my brain. The damn sun was shining through my blinds again and the birds outside would not shut up! Too hung over to care about putting clothes on, I made my way through the living room and stumbled to the kitchen to make myself some coffee stark naked. As the sweet smell of French Roast filled my kitchen, I tried with all my might to remember what had happened the night before. All of my thoughts kept returning to almond colored eyes and the dishwasher guy. I knew I met him at the bar but I couldn't remember his name or how we were introduced. I knew Mira would know, thank God she doesn't drink.
As if on cue my cell phone went off somewhere in my room. I decided to not answer it for a few reasons. The first being that at that moment in time nothing was more important than my coffee and it hadn't finished brewing yet. The second was that I had a splitting headache and I didn't want to go on a wild search through my room looking for the damn thing just to find it as the call ended. So I saved myself the frustration and waited for my liquid life. As soon as I found the biggest mug I own I poured myself a cup and stumbled back to my room. It took me a minute to find my cell which was in my pants which were in turn, wedged between the wall and my bed. Of course it was Mira who left a voicemail wondering if I was alive or not. I'm lucky to have such a woman in my life.
I called her back just as I found a scrap of paper in my pants pocket. She was going on about how big of a fool I was last night and how I almost puked on this really hot guy. My ears perked up as I eagerly asked her what his name was; again, for the life of me, I couldn't remember it.
"You dork, his name was Matt. Too bad you blew it with him," she said as I opened the neatly folded piece of paper. Written on it was "Matt/aka The Dishwasher" with a phone number below it.
My mind raced as Mira re-dramatized the events of the night before in elaborate detail. From my "desperate" attempt to seduce her brother to my "utterly hilarious" drunken stupor. She left no shameful moment out. I didn't tell her about the note. I'm still not sure why I didn't, I tell her everything. But I let her go on with her story until she asked if I wanted to catch some lunch with her and her brother. Quite honestly, food was the last thing on my mind at that moment. I still had that queasy feeling in my stomach and felt like alcohol was coming through my pores. Besides, I had a number to call. I just hoped he was as cute as I remember him being.
Thanks for reading! This is the first chapter in a story I hope to continue. Any input and feedback would be welcome: I really want to know what you think! Keep in mind that this was my first ever attempt at writing so be gentle. There was no sex in this chapter but I swear there will be in the next one but I vow to make it "real sex", not the embellished, made up stuff you usually see in porn. I look forward to your comments and thanks again!
~Mitch
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